


Swing And A Miss

by obvious_apostate



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Baseball, Family Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Spoilers, Okay Not Really, Post Main Game, THE DEATH BUNNIES, and my poor attempt at humour, it's hancock so..., just plain old baseball, they're a big happy fam okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 00:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10149416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obvious_apostate/pseuds/obvious_apostate
Summary: Shaun wants to try pre-war baseball...what's the worst that could happen?





	

“Hey mom, what’s this for?”

Adalyn glanced up from the rifle she was cleaning, towards her son sitting across the room. Shaun had been sorting through the latest pile of junk she’d brought home that morning, as he often did in an attempt to find interesting new parts for his projects. He was holding a padded leather glove - dirty, faded, the leather cracked in more places than not - but it was still a fond reminder of her favourite pre-war sport, her sentimentality being the reason she picked it up in the first place. The bats might be used for far bloodier ‘sport’ these days, and most balls she came across were outfitted to be grenades, but there wasn’t much a wastelander could do to outfit the gloves into some sort of weapon. She had a modest collection at this point, not that they were good for much other than taking up space in one of the trunks lining the wall.

“It’s for baseball. It was a big deal back before the bombs - ‘America’s Pastime,’ people would say.”

Shaun looked down at the glove with renewed interest. “Baseball? Nat told me a bit about it, last time she was here. This was for stopping the bullets then, right?”

“I - what? No.” Adalyn shook her head, wondering how many other children Moe Cronin had spoken to, explaining the ‘rules’ of the game. “It was for catching the baseballs.”

“Did they explode?”

“No explosions, no bullets, no hitting each other with bats. No casualties at all.” 

Shaun held the glove out, seemingly deep in thought as he used his fist to mimic a ball landing in its palm. “No casualties...could we play it then? The real way?” He face lit up, as it often did at any opportunity to try something new. Adalyn felt a rush of affection for her son and his enthusiasm. How could she say no to that? Not to mention, it might be nice to try and revive an actual sport...

“Sure thing Shaun, we can try.” He grinned widely, and she couldn’t help but mimic the motion. “You’ll need to find some more players though - in the morning.” She added the last part quickly, as the boy had jumped to his feet the moment he had heard “sure,” and she motioned for him to sit back down. “It’s late. Scout out some players tomorrow morning, and we’ll give it a go after lunch, alright?”

"Alright. This is gonna be so awesome!"

Maybe it was cautious optimism, or stubborn naivety, or simply the look of excitement on her son's face that dulled any warning bells ringing in her head, but Adalyn believed him. He was right - it _was_ going to be awesome.

~

“So the kid told us there were no casualties in this baseball of yours, he wasn’t kiddin’?” 

Hancock’s disbelieving sentiment seemed to echo on the faces of most who were present at Covenant 2.0’s first official baseball practice. 

Adalyn resisted rolling her eyes - was the murderous version of the game a belief held across the entire Commonwealth? - and glanced down pointedly at the equipment at her feet. “The bat’s for the ball only - which is not full of gunpowder or anything similar, by the way. Baseball is a non-contact, non-violent sport.”

“This sounds like it’ll be about as exciting as bowling was.” MacCready grumbled, glaring down at the pile of gloves as though they were personally at fault. “Which was not exciting _at all_ , just a little reminder.”

“Nobody’s keepin’ ya here, pal.” Cait looked a little disappointed as well though, despite her words. 

MacCready shrugged, but made no move to leave. For all of his grumbling, everyone knew he’d drop it once Shaun reappeared, just as he’d likely ask ‘how high’ if the boy ever asked him to jump. With Shaun having lived at the settlement for close to six months now, there were few of them who weren’t willingly wrapped around the kid’s little finger. Nearly everyone adored him - showing it in their own unique ways - and MacCready was far from an exception. 

Frankly, Adalyn figured the only way so many had shown up at all for this little ‘practice’ was due to the fact Shaun had been doing the recruiting. There were over a dozen people in attendance, though about half of them seemed less inclined to participate and more interested in watching, judging by the chairs and stools that had been dragged out from the compound. Codsworth had even started passing out bottles of cola.

Adalyn gave a quiet laugh. “All we need now is the popcorn and some hot dogs.” 

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. Where is Shaun, anyway? We’re just waiting on him now.”

“Think he went to grab Deacon.”

They didn’t need to wait much longer, as the two in question appeared through the front gates a few minutes later. Shaun strolled over to his mother, head held high to show off the baseball cap he was wearing. Deacon followed a few steps behind, only the smallest trace of a grin on his face and an identical cap on his head. 

“Check it out mom! Deacon said teams had names and uniforms and catch phrases and secret handshakes and blood pacts. We don’t have all of that yet, but this is a start!” Shaun leaned his head in closer to Adalyn so she could take a closer look at his hat.

“Well they did have...some of those things, yes.” She agreed, taking note of the rather crude drawing across the front of his hat, depicting a cartoon rabbit bludgeoning another with a bat. Three words were scrawled underneath the drawing and she held back a laugh. “ _The Death Bunnies_. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Team names were a thing, just like you said, boss.” Deacon touched the brim of his own hat, his grin growing ever so slightly. “Now weren't we going to play some ball?”

~

Two hundred years ago, Adalyn could never have imagined herself needing to explain the basics of baseball to anyone, let alone the haphazard collection of people she now called friends, but the time was here and she was still at a bit of a loss.

“Cait, for the last time, you throw the ball _to_ the person on base, not _at_ the one running the bases!”

“Well that makes no sense at all, does it? If they’re on the opposite team, why shouldn’t I be throwing it at ‘em?” 

“Because you’re not trying to injure them.” MacCready, the current - and unfortunate - base runner, complained and rubbed his arm. He was conveniently all for the nonviolence of baseball when he was on the receiving end of that violence.

“Right, right.” The nonchalant on Cait’s face somewhat gave her away, as did the fact she suddenly remembered the proper rules whenever it was Shaun up to bat. The boy might have been the only one who didn’t have at least one ball-shaped bruise by that point.

Adalyn moved to pick up the fallen ball, tossing it back to Cait. “You’ve got a good arm, at any rate. Maybe you should try pitching?”

“What, and throw at the swatters instead?”

“Batters, and no, you throw _for_ them. Aim for Deacon’s glove.” Adalyn gestured to the man behind the home plate. He’d been made back catcher due to owning a near complete set of gear, courtesy of the Diamond City security disguise. 

He gave a heavy sigh, glancing over at her with a disappointed expression - it would have been more effective if not for the sunglasses, but she could imagine the exaggerated look well enough. “You’ve got it in for me, boss? This is how you want me to go?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I can see the headlines now - _Baseball to the face, good-looking man never stood a chance - and no, it_ wasn’t _a grenade_!”

“You assume an awful lot, thinking someone’s gonna bother writing about your death in any paper.” Hancock’s jibe was halfhearted at best, though, as he was next to bat and the sight of Cait with the ball in her hand had him wary of stepping up to the plate. 

But it was in that moment that fate intervened in the form of a Mister Handy.

“Dinner is ready!” Codsworth announced cheerfully, making his way through the front gates to the edge of the makeshift diamond. “I do hope you’ve all worked up quite an appetite!”

“Just five more minutes?” Shaun asked from his place on the sidelines, having been next to bat after Hancock. 

Adalyn shrugged, making her way back over to him and off the field so play could resume. “We’ll be right in, Codsworth.”

“Very well, but don’t be too long. It won’t stay warm forever!” 

Seizing his chance, Hancock handed the bat to Shaun. “Here, kid. Last one of the day should be yours.”

“Really? Thanks!” Shaun accepted the bat eagerly and all but ran up to home plate. Cait seemed only mildly disappointed at the fact she would actually need to aim for Deacon’s glove. 

“What can I say? I’m a selfless kinda guy.”

~

Not surprisingly, dinner conversation that evening revolved around all things baseball for anyone sitting within a five foot radius of Shaun. When Preston and his patrol arrived home just as the sun was beginning to set, he wasted no time in telling the man all about his day. The boy had taken to the game even quicker than Adalyn had anticipated, and the topic still hadn’t been dropped as she prepared to bid him goodnight several hours later.

“Do you really have to leave tomorrow? How will we know if we’re practicing the right way?” Shaun placed ‘his’ glove - the smallest of the bunch that had been collected - on the shelf above his bed before crawling under the blankets. 

“You know enough of the basics, and I’ll only be gone a week at most.”

“What if the others don’t follow the rules because you aren’t here?”

Adalyn smiled and pushed herself off the doorframe, moving to kiss his forehead. “You tell them to follow the rules, and I have no doubt it will happen. Now get some sleep, I’ll see you before I go in the morning.”

“Goodnight, mom. Love you.”

“Love you too, Shaun.”

Back outside, Adalyn made her way to the campfire near the front gates. When the weather cooperated, it was a popular place to spend time after dark. As she approached, the apparent topic at hand was not what she might have expected. Shaun was in bed, and they were still talking about baseball? What had she started?

“Alright, just hear me out on this one. We use the Junk Jet, and it doesn’t matter who’s pitching! It’s fast, accurate...well, pretty accurate, and nobody’s arm would get tired!”

“It's better than your last idea,” Deacon admitted after a moment. He was intently scribbling his _Death Bunnies_ logo onto another baseball cap, using the lamp from a miner’s helmet to help him see his work.

“Dare I ask what that was?” Adalyn sat down beside him, and that’s when she noticed there were two other hats sitting beside him, gruesome sketches already complete.

“A hit of Jet before batting. You’d hit that ball every time, impossible to miss!” 

She thought on that for a moment. He was probably right, but...

“Sorry, John. Performance enhancers are against the rules. You’d be kicked off the team.”

“Typical.”

“Can we just back up for a minute?” Preston cut in. “Pitching is throwing the ball for the batter to hit, right? And you guys want to use a _weapon_ we’ve used to _kill_ people?”

MacCready’s hand automatically went to his bruised arm. “Hey, if you’d been here today, you might see the potential improvement. Cait’s got one hell of a throw.” His last comment sounded somewhere between a grave accusation and reverent compliment.

The look on Preston’s face suggested he wasn’t quite ready to join in on the sentiment of a gun being a safer pitching alternative, but he didn’t say anything else. 

Adalyn picked up one of Deacon’s hats, doing her best to see the details of his drawing in the firelight. “Cait is coming with me to do the rounds tomorrow, so you’ll be needing a new pitcher while we’re gone anyway.” 

“We’ll figure something out.” Hancock paused, tapping a finger on his chin. “Or Shaun will, at least. Kid sure knows his way around modding tech.”

“A regular da Vinci.” Deacon agreed, setting down the hat he had just finished. He turned to Adalyn. “By the way, you need to pick a number.” 

“Hmm...twenty-one. Why?”

“Arts and crafts, boss, arts and crafts. Every team needs a uniform."

And to think she had ever considered the idea that Shaun might need to actually convince them into keeping their ball practices going.

**Author's Note:**

> Filled a kmeme prompt some time ago...might expand on it here. Anything you'd like to see in a continuation? Let me know - I'm super open to ideas for this one.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
